


Age of Aggression

by WhereLifeIsStrong



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Vocaloid
Genre: F/M, more tags to be added as it goes on~
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-14 16:16:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5749837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhereLifeIsStrong/pseuds/WhereLifeIsStrong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"No one knows the power of the Voice, or Thu'um, better than those who are the embodiment of it: the Vocaloids."  -- Unknown sage of the Bard's College in Solitude</p><p>A retelling of The Elder Scrolls V in which Hatsune Miku is Dovahkiin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prisoner

**Author's Note:**

> I already have chapter 2 written, and I'll be posting it in a few days/weeks. Just as soon as I get Chapter 3 done. I want to be one chapter ahead all throughout this.

"Oh! Finally awake?" a gentle voice asks.

You open your eyes to the sound of horses trotting, the feeling of snow on your skin, and the sight of a vast, frost-covered plain. You're sitting in a horse cart, and your hands seem to be tied. Sitting in the cart with you are three young men, all bound. The man across from you smiles sadly. "You were crossing the border too, weren't you? When you were ambushed by these Imperials?"

You rub your head. "What? I'm sorry, I don't remember a thing..."

"Makes sense. You were unconscious when they shoved you into this cart with us."

Why would you be ambushed by Imperials, though? You support the Emperor every step of the way, and Lord knows what you might have done to anger him. Taking a quick look around and taking everything in, you decide to cut to the chase. "Who are you and what are we doing here?"

"I am but a trader from Whiterun. This young man to my left is a petty thief, and the one next to you... well, we don't know, for he cannot say," says the man. You glance to your right and find a yellow-haired boy with fiery blue eyes, gagged and bound more tightly than the rest. He shoots you a fierce glare that makes you look away.

"We were all probably mistaken for Stormcloak rebels, for the Empire's troops ambushed us and are currently taking us to Helgen for... execution."

"E-Execution?"

The thief punches his seat in frustration. "It's not fair! Why, when we reach Helgen, I'll tear these restraints with sheer force and run the hell out of there!"

"Keep it down back there!" the Imperial horseman shouts. The man across from you turns to the thief. "That would be unwise," he says in a low voice. "The Empire has the finest archers in the land. They could shoot you down in a second."

"We'll see about that," the thief grumbles.

Meanwhile, you are intrigued by the boy next to you, sneaking glances at him every now and then. He seems to be your age and twice as grumpy. Anybody would be, as disgracefully tied up as he is. What kind of importance might this boy hold if he is restrained so heavily?

Your train of thought comes to a halt when the horse cart stops in front of a grand building of gray stone that towers above you.

"Wh-why have we stopped?" the thief stammers.

"Why do you think? End of the line for us," replies the Whiterun trader.

You begin to wring your hands nervously. This is all a huge misunderstanding. You're with the Empire, not against it... you're not supposed to die...

"Come on, now. Get out," an Imperial soldier barks, opening the door to your horse cart. That's when you realize you're not alone. There are many other horse carts, housing other prisoners who await death. Most likely Stormcloak scum. As you step out of your cart with everyone else, a seemingly high-ranking Imperial officer appraises you all with narrowed eyes. "Before we begin, let us all pray to the G--"

A loud screech rings throughout Helgen, and before you know it, the building before you has been lit on fire. A massive dragon swoops down, black scales gleaming in the setting sun. It lets out a thunderous roar.

"I am Alduin, the mightiest of dragons! I have come to destroy this place!" it proclaims with a voice that shakes the earth. People fly into a panic, ropes are cut loose, and suddenly you're free - dodging pillars of fire and weaving your way through the screaming crowd. You don't know where you're going, but you've got to chase that dragon away - somehow.

"Prisoner," a smooth voice says suddenly, and you feel a hand on your shoulder. You're spun around and find yourself eye to eye with the blond boy from earlier. "What is your name?"

You glance around nervously. "M-Michaela. Michaela, of Cyrodiil."

"An Imperial, I presume." He scoffs. "Follow me if you want to live, Michaela."

\--

"This way!" the boy shouts over the crowd's cries, running towards a stone tower. "To the Helgen Keep! We can find weapons there!" You huff, making your way through the mass of screaming people. Who in the world this boy is, you do not know, but if he says he knows how to survive this, you're going to take the chance of trusting him.

The two of you arrive at Helgen Keep. Inside is a table with swords strewn across the top. The boy grabs two, gives one to you, and runs up the spiral staircase.

"Where are you going?!" you shout.

"The roof! We can get a better view of the dragon from there, and find an escape route!" You nod and follow him - but before you can get to the top, the wall beside you bursts open and a large black muzzle pokes through. It's the dragon! You screech and back away, but thankfully it loses interest in the Helgen Keep and goes to kill some others. The boy peers out of the hole the dragon has created, then glances at you. "We can jump through here, onto the roof of that house. There's an underground pathway for Imperial troops around here that leads to the town of Riverwood, which we could take... but we'd have to be prepared to fight Imperials mistaking us for bandits. Now, let's go!"

"Wait! I don't even know your name yet," you say. He goes silent, and his eyes turn into icy blue gems.

"Len," he says after a long pause. "Len of Windhelm."

"Len? That's an odd name."

"...It's a nickname."

"Well, a pleasure to meet you, Len!" you shout as you jump through the gaping hole onto the houseroof. "Now, lead the way!"

You and Len swiftly make your way to the underground pathway. Once in, you weave through the narrow corridors and rush up steep steps - "borrowing" some supplies every now and then. You're almost at the exit when--

"Halt!" Behind you is the sound of metal scraping as swords are drawn. "What are you two doing here?!"

You spin around. "W-We were just--"

"Enough!" an Imperial soldier exclaims. "You shall perish for tresspassing in this place!"

"Draw your sword, Michaela," Len growls lowly. "You take the one on the left, I'll deal with the rest."

"But--"

"Do as I say!"

You unsheathe your sword and charge towards the Imperial soldier. He blocks it with his own sword. The two of you strike at one another, fast and hard, until he plunges his blade into your torso.

"Len!" you screech as you fall to the floor, and suddenly there is another shout. You look up to see that all the soldiers have fallen but the one you were fighting, and Len is dueling with him. His movements are quick and nimble. He dodges with ease, ducking and side-stepping, almost like a dancer. Finally, Len deals the final blow, and the soldier falls at his feet.

Len steps over to you and extends his hand. "You're hurt."

"Y-Yes." You take his hand and he hoists you up. Eye to eye, you tilt your head, expecting him to use healing magic or something of the sort.

"Walk it off." With that, he turns and heads for the door. "Come, Riverwood is just this way. Surely you can find a doctor there."

The two of you step outside to find a lively little village. Children run to and fro, the elders chat on the porch of the inn, and farmers smile at the sky as they work. Poor Riverwood seems to have no clue about the dragon attack.

"This is where we part ways, then." Len turns away. "Take care, Michaela."

"As to you, Len."

You take a deep breath and head for the doctor.


	2. Retriever

"So, you're from Cyrodiil, is that it? What brings you to Riverwood?" the doctor asks as he bandages your wound.

"Well... I was mistaken as a Stormcloak rebel and taken to Helgen for execution, but then... a dragon attacked."

He freezes. "A dragon?"

You nod. "Yes. I'm afraid it might come here next."

The doctor frowns. "We haven't seen dragons for hundreds of years. I wonder what caused this one to return... but more importantly, I'm worried about Riverwood." He sighs and looks out the window. "We are a small town with hardly any defenses. If the dragon attacks, Riverwood will be finished. I wonder if the city of Whiterun would be willing to lend some troops... I should alert the other townspeople and send someone to speak to the Jarl of Whiterun..."

You sit up suddenly, startling the doctor. "I'll go!"

He stumbles backwards. "What? But you're hurt!"

You shake your head. "It doesn't matter. I can't leave your town defenseless!" A grin spreads across your face. "Besides, I'm pretty handy with a sword myself. I don't know about the rest of Riverwood, but I can take down a bandit in no time."

The doctor hesitates, deep in thought. "Well, I suppose I could let you go. The wound didn't go too deep, and you've rested long enough. Just make sure not to exert yourself too much."

"Yessir!" you exclaim, and with that, you leap from the bed to start your journey.

\--

Whiterun sure has an appropriate name, as its surroundings are coated in snow. You shiver as you walk up to the city gates and open them. A guard greets you at the entrance with a smile. "Hello there, traveler. Please enjoy your stay at Whiterun."

You tilt your head. "Do you know where I can find the Jarl? I need to speak with him, urgently."

"The Jarl? He would be at Dragonsreach, the control center of the city. Just head straight down this road and take the stairs to your left. It should be there."

"Thank you!" You wave, continuing along the path. Whiterun truly is huge, but it has friendly citizens and guards. You even met someone who suggested you try mercenary work. Though it seems that many people stole sweetrolls in this town... Either way, you have no trouble finding Dragonsreach, and before you know it, you're standing before the impressive castle. You take a breath and open the doors.

The inside is decorated with rich colors and expensive furniture. A thick red rug lays at your feet, and matching curtains hang over the windows. On the opposite end of the massive room sits the Jarl's golden throne, on which he is reclining. Heads turn to look at you when you enter, but you ignore them and walk straight up to the Jarl. Once at his throne, you kneel.

"Jarl," you begin, "as you may know, Helgen has been attacked by a dragon."

He raises an eyebrow. "So you are the one who survived the attack on Helgen?"

"Yes, sir. I am here because the people of Riverwood are concerned for their safety and have asked me to request that some Whiterun guards be sent there to keep watch."

The Jarl strokes his white beard. "Very well, then." He turns to his counselor. "You heard the girl. Send Squadron Five down to Riverwood, please." Then his wise old gaze flicks back to you. "As for you... you've made quite the accomplishment, escaping Helgen under attack from a dragon. May I ask a favor of someone with your talent?"

You blink. "Of course. What is the matter?"

"Well... let me show you to Gabrial, the court wizard. He's needed help with something, but nobody wants to lend a hand."

\--

"Bleak Falls Barrow? Dragonstone? What are you talking about?" You stare blankly at the purple-haired, scrawny man before you. He has the most childlike, excited grin plastered on his face. Throughout your meeting, he's been jumping around the room pointing at various maps and charts on the walls.

"That's right! I'd like you to retrieve the Dragonstone from a place called Bleak Falls Barrow, very close to Riverwood."

"Why do you want this... Dragonstone?" You raise an eyebrow, trying to ignore Gabrial's slightly irritating behavior.

"It's a stone slab that has a map of ancient dragon burial sites engraved on it!" He flips open a book. "I believe that if one dragon has already awakened and attacked Helgen, the others may rise as well. We need to find where the dragons are buried and stop them before they destroy all of Skyrim!"

"How do you know it's in Bleak Falls Barrow?"

He suddenly grows serious and closes the book. "I have my sources," replies Gabrial.

"O-Okay. I'll be on my way, then."

"Good."

\--

You should have expected this by the name of the place, but Bleak Falls Barrow is... creepier than you thought. As you wander the empty stone hallways, with only a torch as your light, the echo of your footsteps alone reaches your ears. Yet you feel like you're being watched. Anyone there?, you'd like to call out, but your mouth is clamped shut in fear of hearing your own voice.

Carefully solving puzzles to open doors and avoiding ancient traps that had been laid out for bandits, you make your way through the dark burial site without any interruptions - thankfullly. Until, that is, you reach a large room lit with flames on the walls and lined with coffins.

You jump as a growling voice resonates through the area, followed by other voices murmuring in a tongue that sounds strange to your ears. The sound of a racing heartbeat - your own heartbeat - thuds in your ears. What is out there? You draw your sword and prepare for the worst.

And the worst comes. Out of the coffins step skeleton-like beings, talking in their ancient Nord language as they advance towards you. You screech and run straight past them into the next room, slamming the door behind you. What were those things?! Whatever they were, you don't want to deal with them. And you hope they don't come through the door.

You run for what feels like ages, down narrow corridors and through vast rooms, until you reach a cave-like place bathed in blue light. There is an odd, large box in the middle of the stone chamber - behind it, a wall with strange markings carved into it.

Slowly, you approach the wall and find that the markings are words in a language you have never seen before. Yet you know how to read it; the words spill out of your mouth as if you've memorized them.

"Fus," you whisper, reaching out to touch the markings. Suddenly, the earth is trembling and something lets out a mighty roar behind you. You spin around and screech at the sight--

A massive version of the skeleton creatures you encountered before, hulking towards you while screeching in the language on the wall. "Ro... Dah! Ro... Dah!"

Your instinct is to scream and run, yet something holds you in place. A thought crosses your mind...

_...I'm a coward..._

It's true. All you do is fail or run away. Your fight alongside the boy named Len - you would have died if he hadn't been there to kill the Imperial troops. Just a while ago - you didn't have the nerve to fight those strange creatures, to face a challenge. And now - you're tempted to flee like the little girl you used to be.

But no, not this time. This time you will be brave, you tell yourself as you raise your sword.

"Die, fiend!" you shout to the skeleton, and it swings its enchanted axe at you. You dodge just in time and deal a swift blow to its leg, and it falls over with a yowl. Then you begin to hack at it with gritted teeth, blood spraying out of the wounds. You continue to attack long after it's dead; until you're a mess caked in dried blood with fury burning in your eyes. Finally satisfied, you drop your sword and fall to your knees, panting.

You did it. You actually killed a living creature. Or... unliving.

Suddenly Gabrial crosses your mind and you lift your head. The Dragonstone! Where could it be? You frantically search the room until you realize that the skeleton-like creature is holding something tightly in its other hand. Carefully, you open it to find a stone slab, just as Gabrial described. You grin. Yes, this is it! Taking it in your hand, you leave the cave to find yourself back out in the snowy land of Skyrim, Whiterun visible in the distance.

Time to deliver a Dragonstone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw Gabrial is Gakupo
> 
> and Michaela is Miku if you haven't figured that out already
> 
> Just an FYI


	3. Dragonslayer

"You managed to retrieve it... I can't believe this!" Gabrial gushes, holding the Dragonstone up and looking at it as if it's water in a desert. The robed girl beside him - about your age - has been gazing on quietly, her face obscured by a hood.

"Quite impressive," she murmurs.

Before you can comment, a Whiterun guard bursts through the door.

"Sir!" he exclaims. "A dragon! At the Western Watchtower!" The guard turns to you. "You come as well! We need all the help we can get."

Gabrial grins. "Time to fight a dragon!"

You gulp and hope you're up for this.

\--

The dragon is easy to spot as you sprint towards the Western Watchtower. It soars above, roars, casts flames down to the Earth. Guards stand in straight lines, shooting up at the dragon with their arrows.

"We've got to ground it," says one woman accompanying you. "Fire your arrows at it until it collapses, then attack it with your swords and spells!"

"Sounds like a plan!" you reply, taking out your longbow and nocking it. You aim at the dragon flying overhead. Then you pull back the arrow, let go, and...

Miss.

The arrow shoots straight past the dragon, far into the sky. You curse under your breath and try once more.

Hit! It lands square in the dragon's neck. The dragon roars in anger and swoops down towards you. It's opening its mouth-- Uh-oh. Not good. Flames are cast down at you, scorching some of the guards and scaring others. The dragon lands a mere ten feet away from you. Reflexively, you draw your sword and charge toward it. Steel slams into scale and blood gushes out of the gash on the dragon's side. It turns, ready to burn you to ashes. You jump just in time. Backing away, you conjure a Sparks spell and fire it at the dragon. It suddenly roars and grabs Gabrial in its clawed hand. He screeches in fear.

"Gabrial!" you shout. You have to do something, or else Gabrial will be devoured! Drawing your sword once more, you lunge for the dragon and sever its hand, tossing Gabrial to the ground. Finally, the dragon falls over on its side, defeated.

Gabrial pushes himself up and gives you a pat on the back. "We did it!"

But you cannot reply, for there is a searing pain in your chest. Suddenly, you are surrounded by a blinding light that makes you squeeze your eyes shut. When it fades, you open your eyes to find bare dragon bones and a newfound sense of power. There is something building up at the back of your throat, a force... an unrelenting force...

"FUS!" you roar.

You look around and see that guards' jaws have dropped and everyone is whispering among themselves.

"Wh-what?" you stammer. "What just happened?"

"You... you're the dragonborn..." Gabrial whispers in awe. "You're the Dragonborn!"

"I'm _what_?"

"You absorbed the soul of this dragon! That is something only the Dragonborn can do! Come, we must tell the Jarl immediately!"

\--

You sigh in exasperation. Today has been exhausting, and now you're stuck in this little bedroom in Dragonsreach with nothing but a child's ball to keep you entertained. After hearing of your status as "Dragonborn" - whatever that is - the Jarl decided you would prove useful to the Imperials in their war against the Stormcloaks, and ordered that you stay in this room until you could be escorted to the city of Solitude.

But this feels like a prison, you think, bouncing the ball. And the way they discussed you in the Jarl's throne room, it was as if you were a weapon of some sort. An item. If this is how the Imperial Legion treats their loyal followers, you might start to question your alignment.

You are jolted out of your thoughts by sudden voices ringing in your ears. They chant one thing over and over - in that strangely familiar language - sounding grand, mighty; older and more wise than the earth itself. You leap from your bed and look out the window, to where the sound seems to be coming from. Far off in the mountains, you can see a light shining. Something tugs at your heart, telling you to go there, when you finally realize what the voices are saying.

" _Dovahkiin... Dovahkiin..._ "

They are calling for you - for the Dragonborn. And you must go.

You slide the window open and examine how dangerous it would be to jump out.

\--

After a day of stumbling about the mountains, you finally reach Ivarstead, a tiny town with dilapidated houses lining the streets. Yet in this ragged town, you feel a strange connection to the voices you heard last night - as if they are close. Outside the inn, two men are talking. You approach them quietly, wondering if you will overhear anything useful.

"Going up to High Hrothgar again, are you?" one asks the other.

"Of course. It's not like those old Greybeards are going to come down from their mountain and get supplies for themselves. I might as well catch some game on my way through the 7,000 Steps, too." He grins. "Speaking of High Hrothgar, who do you think the Dragonborn is?"

The word 'Dragonborn' catches your ears. That's what the people of Whiterun were calling you... but what exactly does that title mean? And who was calling for you last night? Maybe these Greybeards on top of High Hrothgar will know something about it.

"Excuse me," you cut in, stepping forward. "Do you know how to get to High Hrothgar?"

Both men look at you for a second.

"A pilgrim, I presume?" one says. Before you can answer, he points to his right. "That way. You must take the 7,000 Steps to get there, but be wary - you may encounter wolves and the occasional Frost Troll."

"What's a Frost Troll?" You tilt your head.

"You're better off not knowing, kinsman," the other replies.

You nod uneasily and head for the 7,000 Steps. Drawing your sword, you look up at the mountain that towers above you. And thus begins your quest to High Hrothgar - to find out just what you are.


End file.
